Page 14

CHAR FROZE IN place and sucked in a shocked breath, feeling a bit like a bunny staring down the throat of a hungry wolf. Yet at the same time, this was Fen and Char wasn’t frightened; he just didn’t know how to react or what to say.

Fen looked around for a few moments, squinting in the dark, but when he finally caught sight of Char a happy smile broke out, brightening his eyes as they reflected the moonlight.

“I heard you were having some difficulty with unwanted visitors,” he said, his voice soft so it didn’t echo in the empty room and alert Char’s prey that he was lying in wait. Fen walked over and took the seat across the table from Char, the length of wood between them a welcome shield of separation. “I volunteered to be your guard this evening,” he added, his smile still bright and happy.

Char struggled with what he wanted to say, but emotion beat out logic in the words that popped out. “You have to be exhausted. You’ve barely been back after your trip!”

Fen stifled a laugh behind one hand, his grin widening. The way his eyes twinkled said he thought Char was being cute, which wasn’t Char’s intention.

“That’s why I don’t have stacks of paperwork with me right now,” Fen explained. “Or any aides circling me like hungry sharks, demanding I sign things. I’m going to relax here with you, have a pleasant chat, and hopefully take ten minutes to subdue whoever might show up. Jensen can handle logistics for one more night,” he added with a wink.

Char ducked his head, blushing again. Fen reached across the table, his fingertips brushing under Char’s chin, as he gently lifted Char’s head. He kept the contact even as their eyes caught, trailing his touch along Char’s jaw and up to his cheek before slowly pulling back. Char couldn’t blink; couldn’t look away. Staring into Fen’s hazel eyes, the warmth and welcoming drew Char in until his body started to lean forward, crossing the short distance of a few feet of wood. Fen met him halfway, their lips touching in a gentle busk at first and then more firmly.

An initial blast slammed into Char, like biting into a chili and the heady thrill of drinking straight brandy combined with the sweet anticipation that arose the moment before a spoon cracked through the hard sugar coating of a crème br?lée followed by the ease of delicate savory custard. Char didn’t know when his eyes slid closed, but he tilted his head, wanting more. Closer. To feel and taste and wonder.

Char let out an involuntary mewl when Fen pulled away. Fen gave a sheepish shrug, his cheeks flushed and his eyes burning, and he pointed at the doors leading into their barracks. One of them was popped open a bare inch, as if someone was on the other side, listening for any noise in the kitchen. Char froze in place, suppressing his panting breaths, and then slowly eased himself back into his seat.

The door slid open another inch, and then a bit farther, until it was wide enough for someone small to scuttle through. In the darkness, all Char could make out was a slim form a little over three feet tall making a beeline to the pantry. Char waited for the child to get inside the shelved space before he got up and walked into the kitchen. He flicked the switch to turn on the mage lights, and the child let out a shocked squeal.

The little girl was maybe six years old. She stood in the middle of the pantry, her eyes wide with surprise as they darted between Char and Fen. She was already holding a green apple in one hand, the other outstretched and frozen, about to grab a second. Her hair was brown and her eyes a familiar golden brown—the same exact shade as Karl’s. One of the regulation white shirts hung off her shoulders like an oversized dress, belted at the waist with a length of tatty rope.

“How are you related to Karl?” Char asked, keeping his voice gentle and polite. He reached over her head to grab an orange out of the basket on a higher shelf and slid a fingernail beneath the skin to start peeling. He made a small pile on a nearby counter with the rind and split the flesh in half. Char peeled one slice off and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly to give her time to answer. When she didn’t, he peeled off a second slice and held it out for her to take. She didn’t hesitate, snatching it from his hand and stuffing it in her mouth as if afraid if she waited he would rescind the offer.

“How are you related to Karl?” Char repeated. He held out a third slice, which she grabbed and jammed into her already full mouth.

“M’ sister,” she mumbled, a line of juice running down her chin. She wiped the goop off with the back of her hand before holding it out to ask for another slice.

Char obliged, giving her two.

“Why are you here?” Char added.

She shrugged and swallowed. “Nowhere else to go.”

So she had followed Karl here at some point, since he was probably her caretaker on the streets. Safer to be a hidden mouse here, than trying to survive so young without someone older to help. Char handed her the rest of the orange, reaching above her to a cloth-covered basket on the highest shelf where the leftover bread was stored. Some of it would be used to make egg toast for breakfast, some destined to become croutons, and Char was hoping to make a dressing with the remainder later in the week when he had plans to cook sliced turkey breast in gravy.

He pulled out a roll and went to the cold box where he found the open jar of apricot preserves. Char split the roll with a knife and slathered on the preserves. The orange was gone, and she was halfway through eating the apple, when Char handed her the sandwich.

“Right,” Fen said. He dropped a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I think you, Karl, and I need to have a chat.” He guided her in the direction of the doorway, but the heated look he shot over his shoulder at Char said he also wanted to have a chat about everything that had transpired before the girl’s appearance.

Char quickly washed the knife and his teacup, shut off the lights, and followed them out of the dining hall. The hour was late, and he had to be awake again soon, and Char’s heart was still thumping a touch too fast at the memory of kissing Fen.

Char needed to crawl into bed, shut his brain off, and think about everything that had happened over the last few days in the morning. Including that incredible, wonderful, mind-blowing kiss.

In the morning , Char thought sternly as he let himself into his room. That was soon enough to explore all the implications and to dream about where they might lead.